She-Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
Jack and Jill went to up a hill, to fetch a pail of water. A tale all but a select few are familiar with, but this particular story has little to do with hills or pails of water. However, dear reader, this tale of tales is not entirely dissimilar to the original yarn, spun by the Brothers Grimm, as there is much blood to be shed and the night is yet young. The time was sometime after the moon strode her peak, and began her descent again, with the edges of the sky turning the absolute blackness that occurs before dawn. And our friendly, neighborhood alcoholic, let’s call him Jeff, was in his usual spot, appearing to drown his sorrows in stale beer and cheap peanuts. As Jeff made eye contact with the embossed symbol on the bottom of the glass for the sixth time that night, he waved to the bartender for another. He slammed the glass down hard, but not so hard to break it, as he’d run up quite a tab once due to his habit of breaking the dishware here. The bartender kindly, but in no uncertain terms, informed him that he was cut off for the night and needed to leave. After refusing the offer of a cab from the owner of the bar, he slogged to the restroom to relieve himself. After fishing his pants back up and checking to make sure his pocket knife was still in his pocket, he headed to the bar’s exit with some considered difficulty. When he was about fifteen feet from the door, she walked in, and our alcoholic, inebriated protagonist gawked as he felt his jaw commingle with his collarbone. She was beautiful, in a way broaching on ethereal. She reminded him of a dandelion puff that was about to be swept away by a slight breeze. She was tall, slender and pale. Coupling that with the silvery, gray dress, small slips of flat shoes, and the obviously artificially ash-grey hair that was tied back with a nearly obsessive neatness, she seemed a veritable ray of starlight in the blackest abyss of this den of iniquity. As Jeff’s higher mental faculties began returning in preparation for the hunt, he managed to stammer out a weak “Hello…” As far as first introductions go, he’s done better. She smiled a small, coy smile, and her eyes were filled with a mix between animalistic intensity and nearly Vulcan-level cold intellect. She was perfect. “Hi there, come here often?” she returned, knowing full the irony of the immaculate, astral beauty delivering one of the most cliché, overused pick-up lines on the seemingly depressed, drunk slob in front of her. He was attractive enough, but in need of a shower, shave and some personal maintenance. This one-liner delivered to Jeff made him chuckle, and he stopped slouching as badly. When he was fully upright, he stood a solid six-foot-one, and even then, he was only slightly taller than the newest member of the bar’s ecosphere. He let his eyelids fall slightly and the corners of his mouth perk up gently, giving him a unique balance between arrogance and nonchalance. “Given that the barkeep and I are on a first name basis, I would say so, ain’t that right, Marquise?” This elicited a glare and slow nod from the man behind the counter, knowing Jeff full well. Especially as the reason he’d had to buy new glasses and dishware a full four times since taking ownership of the dive. Jeff had his own animalistic features, with sharp teeth, thick hair and borderline predatory feral attitude he has around people he classifies as his ‘type.’ “Anyway, since you know Marquise now, I’m Jeff. However, I’m at a loss for yours.” “Well, I’m not as upfront with my info, so let’s play a small game. I’ll give you three guesses and one hint. If you can guess it, I’ll come sit with you, and you can buy me a drink.” And so began a short stint of guessing. Jeff quickly found out that her name was neither Jane nor Jillian. And she certainly didn’t change her name from Kitty to Karen after she bought a white, Chrysler LeBaron but he did get a chuckle for that guess. And the humor was enough to get her name, and she ordered the most expensive drink available. After a small discussion, they agreed that they would return to Jeff’s home. When they reached his small, yet accommodating apartment, they ascended the stairs to his third floor room. “So, Alice, what do you think of the dwelling of this drunkard? What you expected?” Jeff asked as he opened the door. Alice took in her surroundings and was surprised to see a space so organized and neat belonged to someone who came off as a bit of a disheveled mess. It was a pleasant surprise, but one that gave way to concern for either Jeff or herself. She hadn’t decided yet. “It’s definitely not what I expected. I am happily surprised though. It should make tonight go infinitely smoother, not having to climb and jump over clutter like some sort of thespian or acrobat,” replied Alice in a half mocking, half serious tone. Jeff raised an eyebrow at her seeming understanding of what his true intentions were, and in an effort to maintain the appearance of ‘high society’ education that Alice seemed to ooze with, he replied in a noncommittal, “Quite true.” However, in all honesty, Jeff hated having to put up this façade and struggled to maintain it with his prey for any length of time. This was going to be a long, but fulfilling night. The two were a unique sight together, after Jeff had changed out of his ratty, beer stained undershirt. They were both attractive in their own ways, but nearly polar opposites. Jeff was a large man, with a more roguish appearance, sporting a toned muscle structure and well-defined features. Alice was slender, tall and seemed to be born in the wrong universe. She looked closer to an elven princess than a human being, with smooth skin, crisp facial features and a small nose placed between two very grey eyes. The best part of this entire chance meeting is that neither knew each other’s secrets. They both had a particular preference in their prey. Jeff preferred those who came off as snobbish and high society, whereas Alice had a penchant for those with more rugged features. It seemed that Jeff was overly hopeful and that Alice was “slumming it” when they went looking for their next target. “Shall we just skip the introductions and formalities?” Alice asked, eager to begin her plans for tonight. “Might as well. It’s already four in the morning and I have working in about five hours. So, I’m up for it when you are.” Alice strode over to Jeff, set her right hand on his chest and reached into his back pocket. After she fished the knife out of the loose pants, she pushed him down onto the couch. She tossed the knife aside and assumed a more predatory gait, striding, one foot exactly in front of the other. Her hips swayed side to side as she came to stop next to Jeff. “Wow, didn’t realize you had that much strength in you. Tonight’s going to be fun,” Jeff said as Alice crouched next to him. “You’re going to have to put up a stronger resistance than that. Come on, stand.” Jeff took this time to sweep Alice’s feet from beneath her so she fell, and Jeff caught her right before she hit the ground. Jeff then stood, with Alice in his arms, and gave her previous line to her in a half tease, half sneer. “You’re going to have to put up a stronger resistance than that,” Jeff said as he set her down on her feet, and she saw a recent newspaper, with a headline she was all too familiar with. You see, dear reader, there have been a string of missing persons and gruesome murders in Jeff and Alice’s city. And the police and papers have grown desperate to find the people, or at least answers to their whereabouts. With no hints, tips or trails, the authorities have taken to relying on public assistance. The papers, however, needed to be careful with their stories, as Alice knew that the murders were very gruesome. Brutal decapitation and exsanguination, coupled with seeming ritualistic sacrifice make for great novels, but are journalistic minefields. People are very touchy about the public knowing their loved one was turned into a statistic. What makes it even more frustrating is that there was very little pattern to it. Bodies were found everywhere from hotels and homes to alleys and small parks. One was even found inside of a children’s play equipment; it didn’t matter to the culprit (or culprits) age, ethnicity, marriage, kids or social standing. Everyone targeted ranged from wealthy, married, middle-aged businessmen to the abandoned, destitute, elderly female homeless population. The only things linking the victims are that they’re all found naked and all are inscribed with strange symbols. But, not wanting to ruin the mood or grow suspicious of the company she currently kept, she disregarded the newspaper and returned to the task at hand. She began removing Jeff’s clothing and she crawled up his body, keeping low to him to conceal most of her body from his vision. After a while of adult-oriented entertainment, Jeff had fallen asleep, content with his newest ‘conquest’ against the clique who he blamed for all his issues. Alice stood from the bed, which caused Jeff to wake. “Where are you going?” he asked groggily, almost pathetically. This was a farce entirely, but Jeff was never one to break his act, even when the show was over. “Time to do the ever lauded walk of shame,” Alice responded, in a falsely cheery tone mixed with a fair dose of sarcasm. Alice left the room before Jeff had a chance to respond. She walked to the door, opened it, held it for a second or two, then closed it and walked gently to the bathroom. Taking care not to make a noise, she opened the door, stepped in, covered his mirror with a towel and waited in the dark. After about two hours of patient waiting, she heard Jeff wake up and walk over to the bathroom. He opened the door, entirely oblivious of Alice, waiting on the side of the doorframe. She crept behind him, making sure to look at the wall to avoid him getting that primal warning sense of being watched. As Jeff stared in bewilderment at his now covered mirror, he didn’t have time to react to the rag that smelled strongly of the ether he worked with as a janitor. By the time all that was going on clicked in mind, he was unconscious. When Jeff had awoken, he found himself sluggish and bound tightly with shackles. He tried to jerk himself free, but was met with tremendous resistance from the shackles and sluggishness he can only attribute to being drugged. “Good morning, sleepy head!” Alice cheered, all traces of cynicism and snark gone from her voice. She seemed genuinely chipper in this situation. “What’s the meaning of this!? Let me go you damned sociopath!” Jeff roared in defiance, despite his obviously hopeless situation. “See, Jeff, I’m not a sociopath. I’m doing this for my own survival.” Jeff could only stare, incredulous and skeptical, as he could not believe that such a woman had to resort to such extreme methods to ensure survival. What, did she believe Jeff was going to kill her? His only game was the sexual conquest, nothing so violent or bloody. “What do you mean your survival?! You could have simply left last night. I wasn’t any threat to you. Why do this?” “Oh no, no, no, Jeff. You misunderstand. You don’t pose any danger to me. Even if I let you go and armed you with this knife that you oh so love,” Alice replied while taking Jeff’s pocket knife off the nightstand, “but I do need you dead in order to survive. You do know the headlines of all those dead and missing people from the area, correct?” Jeff nodded slowly, realization of what she’s implying dawning on him, suddenly regretting springing for such a dive of an apartment. He wasn’t even sure if he had downstairs neighbors to hear his screams. Even if he did, he doubted that they would care enough to call the police for him. “So what, I’ve seen your face, so you need to kill me? Is that it?” Alice sighed heavily, “I don’t know why I always expect people to understand the symbols I leave carved into the corpses. I barely even remember what they mean anymore. No, Jeff, why I need you dead is because I intend to drink your blood, take your form and leave your body as an offering to my benefactor, in a more cliché way, my dark lord.” Alice began carving a series of intricate lines, swoops and curves into the abdomen, torso, arms and legs of Jeff’s mortal flesh using the pocket knife from earlier. All the while, disregarding his screams that turned to cries that turned to whimpers. “That’s what those sigils do,” Alice continued after finishing her work and planting the knife into Jeff’s hand, “bring my god towards the corpse. The authorities have been covering it up to prevent mass hysteria, but the corpses they recovered have yet to be identified because they disappear very shortly after discovery.” As Alice finished this statement, she stepped back and began to change. Her arms extend and grow extra joints, more appendages burst from her abdomen and her skin developed a rough, green appearance, similar to an insect’s carapace. By the time she was complete, she appeared as a massively sized praying mantis. Jeff could no longer see Alice’s mouth move, but rather hear her voice in his head. “Now, the blood is my survival, the body is for my benefactor, but remember how all the bodies were also decapitated? Do you remember your basic high school science classes? The bizarre mating rituals of the mantis? That’s why I do this. The consumption of your head allows me to change my form. I mean, sure. I could just tromp around decapitating people all willy-nilly, but where’s the fun in that?” These were the last things that Jeff heard before his head was removed by a swift grab, twist and lift. His cranium and grey matter destined to fuel future killings, like countless before him. After the ritual, Alice had to admit that Jeff was unique. He had a sarcasm and a spunk that made the once-Alice like him. Now he was dead, and Alice could be him. This new skin was going to be… spicy. Category:B4MV18 Category:Beings Category:Ritual Category:Disappearances Category:Dismemberment